


Tips

by theangrywarlock



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: AU in which they won their Republic, Courfeyrac is his own warning, First Time Sex, M/M, good deal of smut, in which Enjolras is awkward and says awkward things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-08
Updated: 2013-02-08
Packaged: 2017-11-28 15:53:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/676182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theangrywarlock/pseuds/theangrywarlock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras obtained some pointers (verbal) from Courfeyrac. Grantaire knows exactly what he's doing. They've been in a relationship for five years. Enjolras decides it's time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tips

In all the years that Courfeyrac had known Enjolras, he had only seen his friend nervous once, and that was on the night before the first elections. He had been just fine on the barricades in 1830. He had been just fine running across rooftops, dodging gendarmes, and sitting in his alcove on the barricade in 1832. In all the times when it would have been normal to be nervous, Enjolras was calm, determined, and far too aware that they were doing the right thing to indulge in any anxiety he may have held. A few minutes before the elections had been held within the new Republic, Grantaire had approached Enjolras with a bravery that he hadn't seemed to possess before.

He was clear in his question, which should have been phrased a bit more delicately. On any other day, it would have gone in one ear and out the other. Courfeyrac had been present at the time, and he gave a look of sympathy at Grantaire before Enjolras had answered.

He needn't have bothered. Enjolras, in what Combeferre hoped was a moment of weakness and Courfeyrac took as a moment of triumph for Grantaire, said yes.

Grantaire just smiled, but Courfeyrac could see his friend tempering down his emotions quickly. A good thing for that as Enjolras replied to dramatics the same way he tended to reply to all things that irritated him - with complete and utter disregard. Grantaire stated the time and place, after the elections of course, in a lovely little cafe. Courfeyrac knew of the place. He didn't think it very lovely, but it had an atmosphere different from that of the Musain. More formal, less frequented.

When Grantaire let him be, Enjolras took to tapping his fingers against the table in a distracted manner as he re-read over the list of names. He did that for a good ten or so minutes before Courfeyrac stilled them by covering Enjolras' hand with his own.

"You seem troubled." An obvious statement, but Courfeyrac had never seen Enjolras distracted.

Enjolras ran his free hand through his hair and let out a huff of air. "I've never dated."

Therein was a problem that had Courfeyrac's expertise written all over it. Was it a coincidence that Grantaire had asked Enjolras out in front of him? He liked to think that it wasn't. Who better to instruct than he?

That night had been the first of many that Courfeyrac spoke to Enjolras of love. He kept the jokes to a minimum, tried anyway, and kept his puns to himself, tried to anyway as well. He lost both battles, but in the end, he didn't think Enjolras cared. His friend calmed down soon after and from all intents and their purposes, their first date went very well.

Well enough to keep Enjolras in a relationship with Grantaire for a good five years after the fact. Courfeyrac never asked Enjolras why, though he was terribly curious. He suspected the answer would be "Because he asked" or something equally simplistic. Enjolras was funny that way. Anyone else would deliver a sonnet of compliments on their loved one. Enjolras had no time for such frivolities.

Apparently Grantaire didn't mind it either. He drank less frequently, his moods were much improved, and while he still showed no interest in politics, he stayed out in the street near Enjolras whenever a speech had to be made. Within those five years, Courfeyrac watched Grantaire become more attuned to Enjolras' moves and non-verbal cues. He started to catch on to the nuances of the man, indicators that he was tired or otherwise unwell. Signs that he was needed in some capacity.

On the other end, Courfeyrac was able to watch Enjolras go through his own transition. There was no pressure on Grantaire to conform to the ranks of the Republicans. Though when Grantaire volunteered for something, Enjolras allowed him the chance without any quibbling. His patience with Grantaire seemed to be extended, while at the same time he became very good at putting his foot down on something when he thought it was best. For instance, he wouldn't allow Grantaire another bottle of wine after two lay opened and drained in front of him. Courfeyrac knew the two of them had their own ways of give and take. What he was seeing was only the surface of the relationship.

Both were capable of very still waters.

All the same, he figured that their relationship had naturally progressed to the next level when he stayed behind at the Musain one night. Despite the Republic still being in place, the group continued to meet in the familiar cafe to go over the successes and failures. A few of them were into the political scene, a few had become lawyers, Joly was now a doctor, and so on. But they still had need of one another, and so they met and continued to become closer. The passage of years only made their friendship stronger, and the more their new responsibilities tried to keep them away, the harder they clung.

That night, Courfeyrac didn't stay at the Musain for closeness. He stayed because Enjolras was making that damn tap-tap-tapping upon the table while re-reading a paper out in front of him.

"And what troubles our dear chief tonight?" Courfeyrac asked.

The tapping ceased. "You don't have to call me that anymore."

The papers called Enjolras enough names for all their liking. Most of them were positive, but still Enjolras balked at anything save for his given name. So much so that Courfeyrac wondered if his friend had ever told Grantaire of his first name. Strange, really, that even though years had passed, they still addressed one another by their surnames while in public. "I like it. It's something only we can call you. And that's a good way to circumvent the question."

He was rewarded with a slight blush, which at first he was willing to put down as a trick of the light.

"It is probably nothing. I'm getting worked up over nothing at all."

"There's no such thing as nothing with you," Courfeyrac prodded. "If it was just nothing, you wouldn't be nervous. I know you well, my dear friend. You would analyze the problem, try to create some form of solution. Anything that takes hold of your mind for so long could never be nothing. If, however, you need a second opinion, that's what I'm here for."

Enjolras, used to Courfeyrac's diatribes and friendly poking, just sighed and moved the paper away from himself. "It's Grantaire."

Trouble in paradise? In all the years they've been together, Courfeyrac never heard anything about a quarrel, not even a lover's tiff. There had to have been a few as Enjolras would never allow Grantaire to just roll over in submission and Enjolras' personality could be a forceful one. "Was there an argument?" If so, what about? He could only imagine the topic. The two of them still had their fair share of differences, and he hoped Grantaire wasn't so foolish as to badmouth the Republic. In Courfeyrac's experience, that tended to be the only thing that so tried Enjolras' patience.

Well, that and Rosseau, but he doubted Grantaire would bring that to Enjolras' attention. Courfeyrac prided himself as being the only one who could get under Enjolras' skin in such a way.

"No argument. We've been together for awhile. I should like to advance our relationship," Enjolras replied, his head bowed a little. "But I confess to not know much regarding that particular step."

At least there was no disagreement. "The next step?" Courfeyrac asked. "What next step?"

"Sex."

At least Enjolras used a rather cavalier tone. Courfeyrac tried not to smile with relief. Was that all there was to this? "So in all this time, you and he haven't been," screwing like rabbits, "indulging in any intercourse?" Best to keep things formal, Courfeyrac decided.

Enjolras just shrugged. "There was always something else to do. Aside from that, we both wanted to take it slowly. He still had problems to work out and I still had a great deal of work to accomplish. Now his burdens have lessened, mine have remained the same but that's how they'll always be. We moved in together last year under false pretenses, of course." Courfeyrac was certain that galled on Enjolras, to still not be able to live with complete freedom with the one he loved. "But only nowadays has it occurred to me to try and give him what he wants."

"What he wants?" Courfeyrac repeated. "And what about what you want?"

"While it's easy for me to say that what I want is for him to be happy and satisfied, I must confess that I would like to indulge myself as well. If only to see what the fuss is all about, and there is a small part of me that thinks that I would like it very much with him." Enjolras was choosing his words carefully. He was also doing a lot of confessing. Courfeyrac was starting to feel like a priest.

A priest with a very filthy mind.

So like a priest.

"And you're worried that your instincts won't take over and that you'll give Grantaire a difficult time in what should be a very pleasant experience for the two of you?"

Enjolras nodded.

Courfeyrac leaned his cheek upon his hand, his elbow against the table, grinning so wide it could put the Cheshire Cat to shame. "Then I would very much like to help you. If there's one thing I know a great deal about, it's carnal desires."

\--

Grantaire had been practicing.

At first he felt very foolish holding up a mirror and speaking at it in what he hoped was a low and gentle tone. He tried numerous lines. He tried making sure that he wouldn't be making strange faces even when he climaxed. He tried building up his stamina out of the terror that as soon as he was inside his lover, he would lose all control and that would be the end of that. What a shameful excursion, to obtain Enjolras' trust and love to such a point and then to disappoint at the end!

He could prepare himself for the tightness, but not for the idea. Enjolras would allow him that right. He would be worthy of such an act. He would be allowed to become so close to his lover, to his idol, that he could potentially soar alongside him. To be within Enjolras was to make Enjolras almost an extension of himself, to have a part of Enjolras that no one else ever could. It was a heady experience and one that used to make tears come to his eyes until he put a stop to that as well.

But what clinched it all was that Enjolras wanted it as well. He wanted Grantaire in that way. He trusted Grantaire in that way. Enjolras chose Grantaire as being worthy of him, even though Grantaire was still trying to feel that his life had worth. It made Grantaire feel uncomfortable at the same time as it raised him up. There were expectations now, and while Grantaire had experience under his belt, it wasn't the sort of experience he could rely upon wholly. For one thing, this wouldn't be just a one night stand. For another, he wouldn't be doing this just to climax and forget his own situation. For a third, he knew he would be Enjolras' first and he yearned to make it special.

So he practiced with a mirror. He practiced at the basin. He practiced being able to control his breathing, slowing and starting again. And he tried not to think about Enjolras' eyes on him, the noises he would make, how his skin would feel against Grantaire's.

And he tried very hard not to think about Enjolras taking control later on and breaching him. That was always enough to set him off.

They had thought about scheduling their first time, a date upon the calendar. Grantaire imagined it circled in red with the word 'sex' written into the square. It seemed far too clinical to him. So he argued for spontaneity. Enjolras had agreed. Unsure how long the night would go on, however, Grantaire had memorized Enjolras' schedule and chosen a day when Enjolras would come home early and not have to leave the next morning. In retrospect, it probably would've been easier if they had it scheduled, and Grantaire could just imagine any excuse Enjolras would give the poor soul who asked for Enjolras' time on that particular night.

Then again, he feared Enjolras taking the person up on his offer and apologizing to Grantaire about the delay while secretly being relieved.

Best not to imagine these things.

So when the night came, and Grantaire embraced Enjolras from behind, kissed his ear and whispered, "Tonight," he was very surprised when Enjolras turned in his arms and kissed him back.

And then said in no uncertain terms, "I want to ride you like a pony."

The words contained no trace of profanity, but coming out of Enjolras' mouth in that sort of an order took Grantaire aback. Still, he kept his smile from wavering and managed not to look at Enjolras as though his lover just grew a second head. It would be a very attractive head, but still out of the norm.

Grantaire took him upstairs to their shared room, fully intending on teaching Enjolras about a great deal. He had seen Enjolras naked before, sporadic sightings to be sure, caught in-between clothes or in the bath. But now, the slow strip was almost a tease for himself. His own clothes came off quickly as he had no desire to make Enjolras uncomfortable in being the only one naked.

Yet as he took Enjolras back into his arms, enjoying the physical contact, Enjolras again whispered in his ear, "Your father must have been a baker. You've got gorgeous buns."

Once again, a string of words that had no place being in Enjolras' mouth let alone his mind at all.

Was Enjolras playing with him? Was he mocking him? Grantaire pulled back to look at him. "What?"

For a few seconds, Enjolras lost a bit of his composure and he shifted uncomfortably. Grantaire tried not to feel sorry for him. Maybe he had heard it wrong, or maybe Enjolras was just trying to make himself feel at ease. Right before Grantaire was about to start comforting him, Enjolras spoke up again.

"I just-" He paused, his gaze drifting downwards.

"Just?" Grantaire gently prodded.

Enjolras mumbled something incomprehensible. Grantaire, who had been listening painstakingly for anything Enjolras would say, unfortunately heard it and was able to translate it. He shifted from foot to foot, one hand going up to scratch the back of his head in wonder. "Apologies if I got this wrong, but did you just say that you want me to fill you with my hot man juice?"

The words hung heavily within the air.

Enjolras clenched his jaw in unmistakable embarrassment and nodded.

Grantaire would have thought his lover was joking around if not for the fact that Enjolras, in such situations, didn't joke, and he looked entirely too serious. As though he was really trying. As though he thought this is what Grantaire wanted to hear.

Grantaire couldn't resist. "Do you even know what man juice is?"

Ah, now that got a withering stare up at him, but at least Enjolras was looking at him again. Grantaire cupped Enjolras' cheek, his thumb caressing the soft skin. "You were talking to Courfeyrac?"

Who else would give him such ideas? Certainly not Combeferre. A good deal of tension drained out of Enjolras at that point. He could shift the blame elsewhere for a bit as he nodded. "We thought that you would like it if I talked dirty to you."

Trust Courfeyrac to give silly examples and trust Enjolras to not know what examples to take into account. Grantaire just sighed. "I would like it. But I'd rather it be your own words and only if it's your choice to use them. I would like anything from you, Enjolras."

This further relaxed Enjolras who took hold of Grantaire's shoulders. Apparently he was tired of talking as his lips descended onto Grantaire's. Grantaire certainly didn't take issue with this.

He had been right to schedule the night as he did. While Enjolras wasn't nervous, he was a bit tense. Keeping him relaxed had been something Grantaire had prepared for. What he hadn't considered was Courfeyrac's tips. A few of them he had to reteach to Enjolras, from the biting of the tongue to the scraping of the teeth along his shaft. He wasn't even sure what to do with the tip involving a piece of wet celery.

Oh, to have been a fly on the wall of that talk.

It would've been easier for Grantaire to just tell Enjolras to forget all that Courfeyrac had taught him, but quite a few of those tips came in handy. Such as when Grantaire was so worked up that he nearly forgot about the oil to use. Or when Enjolras suggested that they move their activities to the bath and Grantaire got to experience Enjolras' tongue in other areas of his body that he would never dare suggest Enjolras touch with his mouth.

But when Enjolras did finally speak in something vaguely resembling sentences at the height of passion, they were his words and his alone. Not beautiful graceful words as he used in speeches. Not Courfeyrac's horrendous lines. But sharp gasps of need as he rode Grantaire quite thoroughly into the mattress. He did not plead, he did not beg. He demanded and Grantaire was very happy to give him exactly what he wanted.

Apparently Enjolras' "Don't you dare come inside of me yet!" was also enough to keep his stamina in check.

So much for practicing for either of them.


End file.
